


islands in the void

by fantalaimon



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7965553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantalaimon/pseuds/fantalaimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dumping ground for assorted short Dishonored things. </p><p>Major tags will be updated if needed, and any additional info will be provided in the summaries at the beginning of each chapter. Feel free to make requests for things you'd like to see, although I make no promises as to whether I'll be able to manage them (mainly because I have a Niche, and, when I try to venture out from it, disaster tends to strike). I have no idea when or what I'll be adding to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. trembling hands (daud/corvo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for a prompt from [an askmeme](http://creativichee.tumblr.com/post/120992338495/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story) on tumblr
> 
> -nonverbal corvo, royal spymaster daud  
> -daud is pining a lot and corvo is pining a little and both of them are overthinking things

Corvo is fluid. It is fact, but also an intentionally constructed image. He wants them to understand that he is adaptable, agile. That he is clever, constantly in motion. It is important to him that they understand that they cannot hold him, predict him, or control him. They all know what happened last time, of course, but he would rather they not forget.

Daud, on the other hand, projects an air of unshakability. There is a solidity, a heaviness to the way he carries himself that those of weaker spirits have no choice but to yield to or be crushed under the weight of it. Where Corvo says _you cannot catch me_ , Daud says _you cannot move me_.

It’s good. It works.

It’s also a _lie_.

All Corvo has to do is _look_ at Daud, and he starts squirming as if there were rats in his clothes.

Actually, no, he’d probably be fine with the rats. It’s just Corvo.

It’s _annoying_.

He can’t seem to bear being in Corvo’s presence for longer than is absolutely required, yet he is always in the periphery. Far enough to evade actual contact, but undeniably hovering.

Daud’s reputation is useful, so Corvo is careful to do his part in maintaining it. He keeps his distance from Daud among the courtiers, never pressed the issue in public.

Luckily, Corvo has many gifts.

Daud turns into an empty hallway, and Corvo steps out of the shadows to haul him bodily into an equally empty room.

To Daud’s credit, he does not yelp. Still, Corvo suspects it's a near thing.

“ _Corvo_?” Daud stumbles back. “I mean, Lord Protector. Attano.”

Corvo kicks the door shut.

“Er,” Daud says. “Is there a problem?”

Corvo puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head. He studies Daud, not sure what he’s expecting to find. It’s not like the secrets of his mind are written across his chest, but there is—nothing drastic, it’s still Daud, but he’s just a bit more guarded than usual. Wary.

Corvo sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He’d hoped they were _past_ this.

“What’s wrong?” Daud asks, taking a half-step forward. “Something’s wrong.”

Corvo rolls his eyes and taps a finger against Daud’s chest.

“Me?” Daud asks. It’s nearly meek. It’s _ridiculous_.

Void take him, Corvo is _tired_. Time passes and everything stays the same but for Emily, who is aging far too fast.

He slumps against the wall, covering his face with his hands. He doesn’t care. Daud can go on fearing him, and Emily can go on outgrowing him, and he’ll just—

“Corvo?”

Corvo looks up, and Daud is a step closer now.

“Corvo, I—what can I do?” Daud reaches toward Corvo with trembling hands. Corvo’s eyes go to the Mark, then up to Daud’s face. He’s watching Corvo with such uncertainty, but it begins to look more like anxiety than _fear_ , and Corvo can work with that.

Daud’s hands hover in the air, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Corvo’s hands go to either side of Daud’s face, pulling him in close. 

He trusts that Daud’s hands will find their way momentarily.


	2. before dawn (daud/corvo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -predominantly nonverbal corvo, royal spymaster daud  
> -established relationship, nonsexual intimacy, emotional h/c
> 
> this was supposed to be fun or fluffy or something but daud cannot keep his angst to himself

Corvo wakes up to the prickling at the nape of his neck that always accompanies the crackling of the Void and the abilities it provides the chosen.

He blinks his eyes open slowly, calling on his Dark Vision, and Daud gives him a small smile.

“Good morning,” Daud says, bending down to press a soft kiss to Corvo’s lips. One hand finds its way into Corvo’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as the fingers trail through the dark locks, easing apart the night’s tangles.

Corvo makes a low, pleased sound, and Daud snorts.

“You’re always so responsive, before dawn,” he says, fingers curling in Corvo’s hair. “I love it when you hum like that.” He nips at Corvo’s jawline. “But you only do it when you’re half-asleep, which really doesn’t give me much incentive to leave you to your rest, you know.”

“Come back to bed,” Corvo rasps, tugging on Daud’s arm.

“‘Back’? I was never in your bed to start out with, Lord Attano.”

Corvo glares at him. The _whose fault is that_ is implied.

Daud snorts again, but he obligingly sheds the outer layers of his uniform and crawls over Corvo to claim the empty space beside him. One hand settles on Corvo’s hip, almost tentative. Corvo pushes back until he’s flush against Daud’s chest, reaching with one of his own hands to weave their fingers together.

“You’re so beautiful,” Daud says. The tone is so thick with awe that it sounds like he’s choking on it.

Corvo spares a moment to mourn all the sleep he’s not about to get before rolling over to face Daud.

Daud immediately averts his eyes.

Corvo sighs as he pushes himself upright to lean against the headboard. These episodes have gotten less frequent, but they’re still far from unusual. Corvo has all but given up hope of curing them altogether.

“I’m sorry,” Daud says immediately, trying to pull Corvo back down. “Go back to sleep.”

Corvo has come to understand that Daud apologizes as a reflex. He doesn’t gather he’s done something wrong; he assumes. His apologies are _I’m sorry_ and _I’m trying_ and _please don’t leave me_ all in one.

So Corvo is careful to keep his expression clear of any frustration or disapproval as he gently urges Daud to sit up with light but insistent touches. Daud obliges, but he sits with his hands curled in his lap and head bowed, like he’s bracing himself for a blow that he’s already decided is entirely deserved.

Corvo reaches out to cradle Daud’s face in his hands, thumbs tracing the curve of his cheekbones, the hollow under his eyes. When Daud’s eyes rise to meet Corvo’s own, he leans forward to to press his lips to Daud’s forehead. Daud’s eyes screw shut, so Corvo kisses his eyelids, the side of his face, the point on Daud's neck that his pulse thrums under like a storm off a Serkonan shore.

Corvo takes Daud’s left hand and presses a kiss into the palm, onto the pad of each finger, and finally turns it over and lets his lips drag against the Mark.

Daud lets out a shaky breath and grabs at Corvo’s shoulders, clinging to him like a lifeline. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chants, voice cracked through. There are tears on his cheeks.

Corvo smooths a hand through Daud’s hair and kisses the teardrops away too. He mouths his answer against tear-streaked skin. When Daud buries his face in the curve of his neck, Corvo makes no protest.

They hold each other until the light of the sunrise filters insistently through the curtains and the demands of the day on the Empress’s Lord Protector and Royal Spymaster can no longer be postponed.


	3. open house (gen: corvo&emily, corvo+daud+outsider)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was sitting in my drafts??? I have no memory of writing it, but hey, might as well throw it up here... I strongly suspect it was inspired by [this post](http://riphaerry.tumblr.com/post/118288098594/how-about-them-single-parentaus), but once again: no memory
> 
> -modern au???? Single Parent Edition  
> -nonverbal corvo (again)  
> -the outsider teaches at emily's school, and billie sits next to her in class  
> -I Don't Know

“I hate history class,” Emily announced, stomping into the kitchen, leaving the door to slam shut behind her. She dropped her backpack onto the tiled floor and sat with a huff at the table.

Corvo ruffled Emily's hair and put a cookie and a glass of milk on the table in front of her. _What’s so bad about history?_ he signed as he took the seat across from Emily.

She scrunched up her face, but some of the annoyance seemed to be draining from her as she eyed the cookie. “The teacher just talks and talks, and I swear he’s making everything up as he goes. I mean, there’s no way those things really happened. And even if they did, we wouldn’t have any way of knowing, would we?” She bites into the cookie as savagely as the cookie allows.

_What sorts of things?_

“There’s this one story he likes about an assassin and a witch. He’s told it three times. School’s been running for a _week_ , Corvo.”

_Do I know this teacher?_

“No, I think he’s new this year. I don’t even know his real name; I’m not sure _anyone_ does. He just wants to be called Outsider, like that pagan god from centuries ago. Can you believe that? How is he employed?”

_That is strange,_ Corvo signed, frowning.

“He can be kind of fun, though,” Emily said, as though it pained her to admit it.

Corvo raised an eyebrow inquiringly as he swiped her milk and took a gulp (since she never actually drank an entire glass anyway).

“He let us jump from the desks yesterday. I only got a bruise on my knee, but I think one kid broke his arm! Corvo? Corvo, if I’m not allowed to spit, why are you? Corvo, do you need CPR?”

*

Corvo figured he should at least meet the teacher in question before trying to get him fired (or killing him), so he gave Emily firm instructions against jumping of any kind, teacher-permitted or not, and waited for open house the following week. When the night arrived, he did indeed find himself being handed a schedule that read “Outsider - Room 203” under the 7 o’clock timeslot. Emily led him to the room, grumbling the whole time.

The door opened to reveal a blue room containing a few students and their parents, and one young man who must be the teacher sitting with his feet up on his desk. His eyes were black, all the way through. Corvo chose to believe those were contacts intended to go along with his pagan god persona (which offended Corvo, moderately, not that he was about to explain that to anyone) and not to interrogate the situation further.

The teacher seemed to catch sight of Corvo and Emily and jumped to his feet. He approached them, arms spread. “Emily! You’ve finally brought your father with you. How lovely to see you, my dear Corvo.”

Corvo frowned.

“He can’t talk,” Emily said.

“Not in so many words, but his silences do speak volumes, don’t they?” the teacher said, smiling as he gave Corvo an assessing look.

Emily groaned. “You’re so weird.”

“Yes, so you’ve informed me many times. Go sit down or something.”

“Fine,” Emily said, grabbing Corvo’s elbow and steering him toward the back of the room.

“I didn’t mean for you to take him with you!” the teacher called after them, voice indignant.

“He’s my dad!” Emily yelled back.

Corvo really was not liking any part of this. Emily pushed him into a seat and took the desk in front of him.

“Billie sits there,” she said, pointing to the next desk over from hers. “She’s cool.”

_I’ll look forward to meeting her,_ Corvo signed. Emily looked pleased.

The next several minutes passed with Emily rattling off information about her classmates and school life as Corvo nodded along and did his level best to ignore the way the teacher kept staring at him.

Eventually, the aforementioned Billie appeared, along with her father. The man’s face was scarred, and he wore a red coat, even though Corvo didn’t really feel the weather justified it. He made no move to remove it as he dropped into the seat behind his daughter (and beside Corvo).

“You’re Attano?” he asked, leaning back.

Corvo nodded.

“Daud. You know the Outsider?” He gestured to the front of the room.

Corvo shook his head.

Daud snorted. “You’re in for a fun night, then.”

“Well,” the teacher ( _Outsider_ , Corvo thought begrudgingly, clenching his left hand) said, clapping once. “It’s not quite seven, and not everyone’s here yet, but it doesn’t really matter to me, so I say we get started.”

Corvo rolled his eyes.

“I suspect it’d be easiest if you simply called me Outsider, but I also answer to Leviathan, and several other epithets, which I can provide a list of if you so desire. I nominally teach history at this pathetic establishment, but I assure you, I provide knowledge of much greater value than a trite recitation of past events.”

_How can any single person be this obnoxious?_ Corvo signed. It was only intended for his own benefit--Emily’s eyes were elsewhere--so he jumped slightly in surprise when there was a snort to his right. 

“He’s just getting started,” Daud said.

Corvo’s eyebrows shot up. _You understood that?_

“Barely. You’re not signing very clearly there.”

Corvo scowled. _I am trying to be subtle. I do not want to seem rude._

“He’s really not worth the consideration,” Daud said. A second later, a chalkboard eraser hit him in the head.

“Stop interrupting, Daud,” the Outsider said from the front of the room, dusting chalk from his hands.

“If you’re going to throw something at my head, Outsider, at least have the decency to make it heavy enough to knock me out so I don’t have to listen to you after,” Daud said, waving his hand through a cloud of chalk dust. His daughter giggled.

“Maybe I’ll make it heavy enough to kill you next time,” the _teacher of children_ groused.

“I doubt you could even lift something that heavy.”

"Is this an appropriate conversation to be having right now?” a mother asked, and Corvo silently thanked her for it, until both Daud and the Outsider snapped at her to mind her own business.

Corvo sighed and let his head drop onto the desk. _Apparently_ , he needed to find an Emily a new school.

Add it to the list of things to do.


End file.
